


Never A Crowd

by Lynchy8



Series: Fun (and sad!) little drabbles [6]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Anal Sex, D/s undertones, D/s/s, Double Penetration, Jehan really does like his baths, M/M, PWP, Threesome, there is no plot - as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynchy8/pseuds/Lynchy8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the following prompt for this lovely little OT3:</p><p>"I want Jehan bottoming from the top, I don't mind who he's riding (maybe he's taking turns on them?) Bonus points if you can somehow include the famous bath tub"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never A Crowd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [epeolatry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeolatry/gifts).



Jehan was trying to relax. His head and heart were far too full and he just needed some time and space to come down. Finding the flat empty when he had come home, he had run himself a bath, using a generous amount of every bubble bath in the cupboard until the foam threatened to spill onto the bathroom floor. Finally, armed with a large glass of Merlot and his last packet of cigarettes, he sank into the water with a sigh.

He allowed his body to slide right down, immersing himself completely. He held his breath under the water, listening to his heartbeat gently keeping time, before finally rising back to the surface, enjoying the way the oxygen replenished his lungs.

Deft fingers took up a cigarette and he rested his head back against the edge of the tub, watching the smoke spiral and mingle with the steam.

Somewhere outside the bathroom, the front door banged loudly. Jehan groaned as what could only be described as a rioting herd of elephants stampeded into the flat. His peace was shattered.

Judging by the ruckus, Bahorel was in the process of dismantling the kitchen while Feuilly gave him hell for some misdeed committed on the journey home. Jehan took a final drag on his cigarette, his eyes narrowing as the row escalated. It would end one of two ways. They'd either kill each other or end up fucking, probably in the kitchen. Neither of those outcomes were things Jehan was prepared to put up with while he was trying to relax.

Slowly grinding the cigarette end out on the side of the tub, he took a deep breath and stepped out of the bath.

+

"You have disturbed my bath."

Feuilly was on the counter, his hands gripping Bahorel's hair, the other man fitting neatly between his thighs, growling possessively into Feuilly's mouth.

Both men froze at the sight of Jehan, dripping wet, standing in the doorway, a towel slung low on his painfully thin hips, his eyebrow raised challengingly.

Jehan didn't need to shout. Most of the terror he inspired related to the unbelievably quiet way he whispered. He folded his arms to demonstrate his displeasure.

Bahorel grinned at him, eyes bright. He wasn't fooled. He knew when Jehan was really angry and on the basis that nothing had been thrown at him yet, he was fairly certain he knew where this was going.

He shot a quick look back at Feuilly who was still flushed pink, his lower lip red from where Bahorel had bitten down on it, and winked. He then stepped back from the redhead, striding over to Jehan before falling to his knees, surprising everyone in the room. Bahorel didn't normally give in so easy.

"Oh patient poet! Allow us to make it up to you!" He bent his head, but his tone was distinctly mocking. He wanted to play all right.

Jehan grasped him by the hair, pulling his head up before striking him smartly across the face, the sound of the slap reverberating around the room. Feuilly gasped, his eyes widening but Bahorel's face slid into an even wider grin.

"Is that any way to speak to me?" Jehan asked, his tone ever so light and innocent.

"No Sir," Bahorel huffed, eyes blazing. Jehan then looked up sharply.

"And you?" Feuilly took only a moment to decide what he wanted, grinning broadly as he scrambled down from the counter, mimicking Bahorel and getting on his knees.

Jehan, still holding Bahorel by the hair, bent down, their lips meeting in a bruising kiss that Bahorel welcomed hungrily. He then whispered in Bahorel's ear, instructing him to go and wait in the bedroom. With a groan, the bear of a man heaved up from his knees and strode purposefully out of the kitchen.

Feuilly lowered his eyes to the floor as Jehan approached. He closed his eyes as poetic fingers laced themselves in his hair.

"Lovely Feuilly," Jehan murmured, his cold anger from before evaporated, replaced with tender anticipation.

"I want you to undress and then stand by the end of the bed, with your hands on the footboard. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," he whispered.

"Good boy, off you go."

+

When Jehan entered the bedroom, Feuilly was exactly where he should have been, hands clamped tightly to the footboard, staring out Bahorel who was kneeling on the bed.

Jehan paused to gather Bahorel's belt from the casually abandoned trousers on the floor, before casting his towel aside and strolling languidly towards the bed.

He instructed Bahorel to lie on his back inverted, feet at the headboard while his arms were outstretched and crossed at the wrist above his head. Bahorel's eyes glinted with joy, his tongue licking across his lower lip as the hardy leather was criss-crossed round his arms before being attached to the footboard. He gazed up at Feuilly, standing above him.

The bed dipped as Jehan climbed on, reaching over to the bedside table to retrieve the lube and a condom. Bahorel watched him hungrily, his cock already hard against his stomach.

A needy whine escaped as Jehan squeezed a generous amount into his palm.

"Oh no!" He said lightly, head on one side as he smirked at Bahorel.

"This isn't for you. It's for me."

Jehan positioned himself right in front of Feuilly and Bahorel.

"You're going to watch as I open myself up, and then I'm going ride the ever living fuck out of you. And when you're done, I'm going to ride Feuilly while you watch."

He then snapped his attention to Feuilly who was still clutching the footboard with white knuckles. Jehan noted with satisfaction that he was already hard, just at the thought of what was about to happen.

"Feuilly. You may not touch yourself or remove your hands from the footboard unless I tell you to. And you definitely may not come without my permission. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Feuilly gasped, face flushed with desire.

Jehan took his time, bending over to give both of his boys an excellent view as he began to finger himself. He couldn't help but feel smug at the sharp intake of breath as they watched him. He allowed his eyes to slide closed as he worked himself open, knowing just where to press and touch, adding an extra finger and then another, deliberately forcing himself to go slow.

When he was more than ready, he straightened up, turning around to bracket Bahorel's broad hips. He rested his hands on Bahorel's shoulders, ignoring the man beneath him in favour of kissing Feuilly, their lips and teeth clashing as Jehan licked inquisitively into the other man's mouth. Feuilly welcomed him with a satisfied groan, resting his weight on his hands to make sure they stayed there. He knew Jehan; he knew it would be far from pleasant for him if he disobeyed such a simple instruction.

Beneath him, Bahorel grumbled, his cock hard, leaking and neglected. Jehan’s soft weight on top of him, not to mention the sight of him and Feuilly so close and yet so far, was almost too much. Jehan ignored him.

“Jehaaan,” he whined. With an irritated sigh, Jehan withdrew from Feuilly’s lips, looking down at the man beneath him.

“One more word from you and you won’t be allowed to come for a week,” he said simply, staring down at Bahorel with an expression that meant business. Bahorel clamped his mouth shut.

“That’s better,” Jehan said approvingly, returning his attention to the man standing patiently at the end of the bed.

“You wouldn’t behave so badly, would you Feuilly,” he crooned softly, lifting a hand to brush fingers across a freckled cheek. “You know I always take care of my boys. You just need to be patient.”

Feuilly made a soft noise of contentment, leaning forward into Jehan’s kiss, but making sure that his hands stayed put, not wanting to get into Jehan’s bad books, not when he was the subject of so much praise. He managed to contain his whine when Jehan finally withdrew, shuffling down Bahorel to rest on the man’s thighs, staring down at him intently.

“Do you deserve this?” Jehan teased. “Do you think you’re good enough, that you’ve earned the right to be allowed this treat?”

“Please, Sir,” Bahorel hissed, straining against the belt around his wrists. “I’ll be good for you, I promise. I’ll make you feel good, just please…” He threw his head back in frustration, trying to roll his hips up suggestively, inviting Jehan to make good on his word, to fuck himself on Bahorel’s cock.

Jehan smirked, pleased with Bahorel’s begging. He knew it didn’t come naturally to the boxer, that although a confirmed switch, he normally preferred to top in conjunction with Jehan, both of them showing Feuilly the best time they could. But every so often he enjoyed giving it up, giving himself over to Jehan’s attentive dominance.

Jehan bent over him, sucking on his lower lip before biting down savagely, drawing a growl of need from the bigger, bound man.

“You’re so beautiful when you beg, Bahorel,” Jehan muttered into his ear, before shifting to his knees and placing himself over the top of Bahorel’s cock. He paused for a moment, resting just above the head, making Bahorel whimper in desperation, before slowly and carefully lowering himself, taking it in, enjoying the stretch.

He had prepared himself well but Bahorel was wide and this was Jehan’s favourite bit. Whenever he decided he wanted to get fucked this way, he always took his time with that first moment, feeling Bahorel fill him up so beautifully. Finally he sat flush on Bahorel’s lap, feeling deliciously full, his head thrown back, his eyes closed.

“Don’t. Move.” he warned, his voice breathy and drawn. Bahorel bit his lip, fighting, resisting the desperate urge to roll his hips, to fuck up into Jehan’s tight heat. But he maintained his self-control, anxious to obey, to please the man above him. He looked up instead to where Feuilly stood just in his line of sight, his eyes fixed in fascination on Jehan. From his place on the bed, Bahorel could hear his ragged breathing, enjoying the show.

After a painfully long moment, Jehan lifted himself up before slamming back down, drawing strangled cries from both of them.

“God I love your fucking cock. It’s simply delightful, did you know that?” Jehan lifted himself back up, his supple thighs making easy work as he began to fuck himself aggressively on Bahorel who could only lie there and take it. He initially tried to move, tried to fuck upwards, but was discouraged by a smart slap to his thigh.

“I will… I will take what I want from you,” Jehan panted, his hands pressing down onto Bahorel’s chest, a hard pressure against his sternum.

He looked at Feuilly, grinning wildly. The redhead was transfixed by the site of the thin man moving up and down, groaning and gasping.

“Are you going to be just as good for me, Feuilly? Would you like to fuck me, to make me scream?”

Feuilly licked his lips. He liked the sound of that. He had been feeling hot and bothered and on edge for what felt like years. Just before Jehan had interrupted them in the kitchen he had been looking forward to getting fucked by Bahorel, maybe over the kitchen counter. Getting to fuck Jehan was an even better prospect. His cock ached as the anticipation coiled in his guts.

“Anything you want, Sir,” he murmured in response, not taking his eyes from the beautiful sight before him. Jehan laughed, his damp hair swishing as he moved.

“Come here, Feuilly. Come behind me. I want to try something.”

Feuilly’s eyes widened. Surely not! Surely Jehan couldn’t possibly… But he obeyed, moving swiftly round the bed, climbing up and positioning himself behind Jehan as instructed.

Jehan leant forward then, bending down over Bahorel, sinking his teeth viciously into Bahorel’s neck, making him hiss. Then he turned to look over his shoulder, a wicked grin upon his face, his eyes glinting.

“Go on, then. Fuck me. Fingers first. Then your cock.”

Feuilly’s mouth was suddenly very dry. Bahorel was big. But Jehan was confident, his face alight, staring with purpose at Feuilly, waiting for the man to obey. Bahorel stilled, his breath coming in gasps, unable to see Feuilly as the man took up the lube where it had been abandoned on the side. He slicked up his fingers and then pressed one forward, sliding into Jehan alongside Bahorel’s cock. He moved gently, reverently, but Jehan growled at him.

“I’m not a delicate little flower, Feuilly. I told you to fuck me!”

Jehan was a joy and a nightmare when he was like this. He was demanding and insistent and steamrolled right through any qualms or doubts Feuilly might have had. Feuilly began to thrust forward, making both Jehan and Bahorel groan under his attentions. As he felt Jehan stretch around him he added a second finger. Jehan’s eyes were squeezed shut in concentration, but Feuilly could feel him moving backwards almost imperceptibly against his touch, welcoming his fingers.

“That’s enough,” Jehan groaned, his voice low. Feuilly withdrew his fingers, feeling a thrill as Jehan shuddered. Then those green, sharp eyes opened, staring at him, challenging him to finish it, to fuck forward. He rested his hands on Jehan’s hips before taking a deep breath, pressing his tip against Jehan’s entrance and then finally sinking into join Bahorel.

Jehan cried out, a beautiful stark sound that echoed throughout the room. Feuilly almost came right then, his heart thumping treacherously in his chest. They stayed absolutely still for what felt like an age as everyone adjusted to the new sensation; Bahorel on his back, his brain completely blown by the sheer eroticism of being inside Jehan at the same time as Feuilly, Jehan lost completely to sensation, while Feuilly concentrated on staying in the moment and maintaining his composure.

“Ok,” Jehan let out a shaky breath. “Come on then,”

And so they fucked together, Bahorel fucking up, Feuilly fucking forward, Jehan fucking down. They found a rhythm that worked and soon loud moans filled the room.

Bahorel’s arms were aching completely with the strain against the bed. Jehan was hot against him and he felt his orgasm brewing.

“Jehan,” he wheezed, screwing his eyes tight shut, desperate not to ruin this by doing something stupid like coming too soon…

“Not yet, not yet,” Jehan recited, almost automatically. He was completely focused on the sensations of being thoroughly fucked by both his precious boys at the same time, Feuilly’s hot, clammy hands holding him gently, keeping him from floating away, while Bahorel grunted beneath him.

“Please, oh, fuck, please Jehan, please I’m begging you, fuck,” Bahorel began to burble, not sure he could hold on much longer. It was too much, too much sensation. Jehan kissed him hungrily before finally giving his permission. With a couple more thrusts, Bahorel came with a load moan, his entire body collapsing back against the mattress as Jehan continued to move above him.

Jehan sank forward, giving Feuilly a better angle, enjoying how Feuilly seemed to speed up now that Bahorel was spent. He cried out as the other man angled his cock just right, finding Jehan’s prostate and continuing to hit it with each thrust. Jehan came with a gasp, cum shooting across Bahorel’s chest, mixing with sweat.

“Jehan,” Feuilly remembered to ask permission as he continued to thrust into his limp form.

“Yes,” Jehan whispered, entirely broken and welcoming Feuilly’s finish. Three more thrusts and Feuilly came, his entire body stilling, buried deep within Jehan, his come mixing with Bahorel’s. After a moment, he gently pulled out, keeping a light hold on Jehan’s hips, preventing the man from  
falling. He moved back, bringing Jehan’s pliant body with him, laying him gently down on the bed beside Bahorel. 

Aware that Bahorel was in no position to help, he quickly gathered a t-shirt from the floor and began to clean Jehan as best he could. Jehan’s eyes were closed, completely exhausted, a satisfied smile on his face. Feuilly couldn’t help but press a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you,” Jehan muttered, rousing himself slightly, coming back to himself. “You were so good, so good for me.”

He pulled himself upright, taking a deep breath. As much as he wanted to bask in afterglow, he had responsibilities to see to first. He gently took the shirt from Feuilly’s grasp, kissing him softly, before pressing him down against the pillows, to rest. Then he scooted down the bed to release Bahorel who was waiting for him patiently, a smug grin on his face.

“Oh Bahorel! Such a good boy for me,” Jehan smiled, undoing the belt and rubbing at Bahorel’s wrists. “Thank you so much. That was just what I wanted.” 

They all shifted so that they lay together, Jehan lying between Bahorel and Feuilly in a large cuddle sandwich, all completely exhausted, sated and happy.

**Author's Note:**

> erm... Bahorel is a little OC? or maybe he's just being really good for Jehan...


End file.
